You’re lying on the couch with your pants off and a plate of Nutella and pretzels resting atop your boobs. The Property Brothers tell yet another doe-eyed couple that their dream home is $130,000 more than their measly tech startup and teacher budget. A sly smile appears on your face as the dreams of these two young WASPs shatter before your eyes. You’ve been in this exact spot for four hours. A voice deep inside your subconscious–one that sounds a lot like your mother’s–tells you that you should get up and do something productive. Like work out. You dip another pretzel in Nutella and shovel it into your mouth hole as the devilish thought dawns on you:
“When was the last time I worked out?”
You go through a calendar in your mind. Months, seasons, and boyfriends (read: hookups) pass, and you conclude the last time you entered a gym was more than six months ago. “Grey’s Anatomy” was still airing new episodes. Toronto Mayor Rob Ford was caught smoking crack, the first time. Basically, it’s been a while. But you REALLLLY don’t want to go to the gym. At all. Your favorite yoga pants have a hole in the crotch and you’re expecting some clothes you ordered online to come in the mail. If you’re not home, they leave the packages with your creepy landlord who always asks if you’ll be at the pool anytime soon. You literally can’t leave your apartment to go to the gym, but don’t worry, because I’ve devised a workout plan that doesn’t even require pants. You might want to put on a sports bra, because, you know, sagging. Anyway, here it is.
Cardio:
Panicking about the future really gets your heart rate skyrocketing. If you’re anything like me, this should come pretty easily. If you’re in total denial of reality, allow me to open your eyes to the plethora of possibilities and failures that could unfold in the near future. Pace back and forth around your living room as you ponder the following questions:
1. What do people with communication, anthropology, fine arts, art history, etc. degrees actually DO? What if I hate doing whatever that is?
2. What will happen if I fail this class (again)?
3. What if I’m still single by the holidays and my grandmother asks me if I’m a lesbian (again)?
4. Is it too late to switch majors? Transfer to an SEC school in time to get a ring by spring? Drop out and become a YouTuber?
5. What if I can’t find a formal date and have to go with that creepy friend of a friend who calls me “babe” because he doesn’t know my name, despite the fact I’ve corrected him every. single. time.
6. Does taking Plan B twice in one week make my vagina completely uninhabitable forever, akin to the Chernobyl disaster?
7. And finally: what if I have to move back home after graduation? *internal shuddering*
Do four sets of 20 panicky laps around your living room, or until you’re so overcome with emotion that you have to lie down and take a Xanax.
Strength Training:
To achieve sexy arm definition, do bicep curls with two bottles of wine. Bonus points if you use the jumbo bottles. Don’t be fooled by the wine; this is actually really tough, and it gets harder as you drink more. Use your biceps to gently guide the neck of the bottle to your mouth. It’s all about control here. You can’t go all Hoda and Kathie Lee on it and just chug the bottle. Control, precision, and accuracy will get you the results you want: wine drunk with arms like Michelle Obama’s. Push through the pain and finish those bottles like a champion.
Do three sets of 20 reps and swigs.
Squats
Motherfucking SQUATS. Learn it, live it, love it. If you don’t do anything I’m telling you to do, do this. The next time a random guy grabs your ass in the bar (please tell me this happens to other people) give him something that will grab back. To make squats less hellish, simply place an open bag of popcorn right between your feet. Every time you lower down, grab a kernel. Don’t give me shit about this one–just do it. Popcorn is mostly air, right?
Do three sets of 20, or until the bag is finished.
Balance
Note: This step works best after you’ve done your wine/strength training.
Balance is often the most overlooked part of exercise. I’m no physical trainer (in fact, I think I’m the opposite of one) but I’ve heard that balance helps improve communication between the brain and muscles. This type of training is especially important when your brain says, “you would definitely look so good dancing on this table,” but your muscles say, “act like you’re having an epileptic episode.” You need this, trust me. To train your body to properly balance, put on your highest heels and try to walk in a straight line without fumbling or staring down at your feet like a drunk Dumbo (you know–after he drank that pink, bubbly stuff at the circus). This is great practice for weekend bar crawls, formals, or any other occasion when you’re likely to be drunk in heels. If you fall, see how quickly you can get up in the most graceful way possible, without exposing your goodies. We don’t need another Lindsay Lohan out there on the streets.
Do five sets of five up-and-down strides on a flat surface.
Stretching
ALWAYS stretch after working out so you don’t get hurt. At least, that’s what the late-night Total Gym infomercial tells me. I take everything Christie Brinkley says very seriously, and consequently, I’ve added some post-workout stretching exercises to my lazy girl workout plan. To lengthen your limbs, see how many items you can reach without getting out of bed using only your fingers and toes. If your room is so clean that this doesn’t apply to you, go work out at a real gym like the normal fucking adult you apparently are. Finally, end this killer workout by entering into my favorite yoga pose, fittingly called Savasana, or Corpse Pose. Literally, you just lie there like a dead person. Favorite yoga pose ever.
After you arise from your Savasana, pat yourself on the back and pour yourself a glass of wine, because you did it. Your body and mind are exhausted because you just worked freaking hard and probably even smell a little. You know what that smell is? Greatness. Hard work. And probably a little bit of that mysterious stain on your yoga pants. Go update your status to “Just finished a great workout! #fitspo #thinkthin” (because it doesn’t count as a workout unless all your followers know that you did it), pop open a fresh tub of Ben & Jerry’s, and get back on the couch feeling a little less guilty. You deserve a break.
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Cristina Montemayor
Cristina is a Grandex Writer and Content Manager. She was an intern for over two years before she graduated a semester early to write about college full time, which makes absolutely no sense. She regretfully considers herself a Carrie, but is first and foremost a Rory. She tends to draw strong reactions from people. They are occasionally positive. You can find her in a bar as you're bending down to tie your shoes, drinking Dos XX and drunk crying to Elton John. Email her: [email protected] (not .com).
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